The Green-Eyed Doll

by Jerrie Alexander

  The window on the back door revealed nothing except the usual kitchen stuff. A tiny separation in the curtains on the next window told him what he needed to know. JC had been inside. He couldn’t have a key. Could he? Why wouldn’t he have used the front door?

  JC had left her a present. Lying in the middle of her bed was the box with a card on top of it. The hornets’ nest exploded. The buzzing grew louder and louder. They wanted out...clawed at the inside of his skull. His fingers curled into fists from the need to smash the glass and take the gift. He closed his eyes and forced the anger to still.

  Careful not to leave footprints, he made his way back to his pickup and left.

  JC was a dead motherfucker.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Sunday, September 3rd, 4:00 a.m.

  Catherine ran out the door and into Matt’s arms. He staggered backward under the full brunt of her weight. Wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders, she buried her face in his neck. Tears of anger, fear, and frustration flowed unchecked. His strong hands lifted her in his arms as if she weighed no more than a child and carried her back inside.

  “Shh,” he shushed her softly. “You’re okay.”

  “I’m glad you’re here.” She wiped her eyes, not caring mascara streaked down her face. He was here, and she could relax a little. “I’ve cried more in front of you than I’ve cried in years.”

  “And that’s okay.” He turned, still holding her in his arms and zeroed his gaze in on Ash. “You,” Matt emphasized the word with a growl. “Can explain what you’re doing in my woman’s house at four in the morning. Later. For now, I’m damn grateful you were.”

  My woman. She let the phrase roll around in her heart and flow into her veins. His woman. As possessive as it sounded, Matt’s definition was different from her dead husband’s. She could face anything after that statement.

  “Put me down, John.” She wriggled from his grasp while ignoring Ash’s odd expression. Her nickname for Matt would stay between them like his name for her of Cat. Her hands shook. She laced her fingers through his and led him to the back room.

  “The sonofabitch came in your bedroom.” Matt’s jaw muscles jumped and twitched. He stood by her bed looking at the unopened package. A cold glaze clouded his blue eyes, turning them the color of an angry sea. He spun on Ash. “You checked the windows and doors?”

  “Yep. Everything’s secure, but a credit card will pop either the front or the back door. The locks in the house are ancient. You have gloves in your truck?”

  “Box on the floor.” Matt pressed his fingers to his temples. He blew out a breath.

  “I didn’t touch it.” Catherine’s skin burned with the anger raging through his system. His face, full of hate, brought tears to her eyes. No one had ever been protective of her, never been ready to fight for her. Sweet pain curled around her heart and tightened when he pulled her to him.

  “Are you all right?” He lowered his forehead to hers and closed his eyes.

  “I am now.” In that moment...that singular moment, she dove head first into deep water. Way in over her head. This happiness. This euphoria. She’d be destroyed if his unwavering devotion disappeared.

  The snap of latex brought the sheriff back to the job at hand. The swift change in Matt’s posture and appearance was startling. He slid on the gloves offered by Ash before carefully picking the envelope up from the bed. Ash passed Matt a small knife, and he slit the top in one motion. A picture slid out.

  “What is it?” She moved closer with both hands behind her back. The last thing she wanted to do was touch any part of the so-called gift.

  “I don’t know. Red material?” Matt leaned closer. “Catherine, what does it look like to you?”

  “You know what it reminds me of? The brown satin in that Dove’s chocolate commercial.”

  Matt flipped the picture over and read. “I can see you lying on these wearing my present.”

  “Fucking satin sheets.” Ash glanced at Matt. “Oops. Sorry, Catherine.”

  “No problem.” His apology might’ve been funny another time and place. Right this minute, his words felt appropriate.

  “He sealed the envelope. May’ve been his first mistake.”

  Matt pulled the top of the small box off, picked up the lacy, white gown by the straps, and laid it across the mattress. His face flushed red. The nerves in his jaw twitched.

  “Get that thing off my bed.” She literally had to push the words out. “Please.” Catherine wanted to take Ash’s pocketknife and slash the gown to shreds. Blood rushed to her brain while her heart beat out a rhythm of fear. Try as she might, she couldn’t stop her body from trembling. Dammit, she hated being out of control. Take charge of your mind, her martial arts instructor had preached.

  “I’ve got it.” Ash carefully stacked the envelope, picture, and nightgown into the small box. “I’ll drop this off with the dispatcher on my way home.”

  “Thanks for the ride. I’m glad you insisted on looking around,” she said. Ash pulled her in for a hug.

  “Simply a ploy to get inside.” His words were joking, but his eyes were deadly serious when he turned to Matt. “Pray the SOB licked the envelope, and he’s in the system.”

  Catherine walked Ash to the door. Drawers slamming sent her rushing to her bedroom. Matt had piled some of her clothes on the bed. “What are you doing?”

  “Packing you some stuff. You’re coming home with me.”

  Her jaw dropped. He made no effort to hide his fury. His tone barely covered the rage. Anger seeped from his pores.

  “Wait a damn minute.” Her things tossed haphazardly sent her reeling. “How dare you order me around?” She stormed across the room and slammed the drawer closed he’d opened. “How dare you come in my bedroom and handle my underwear?”

  Matt stared at the fingers that barely escaped being smashed. “You can’t stay here alone.”

  “I told you once before. Don’t tell me what to do.” The sound of her own screeching voice sounded alien to her. A shrew-like woman had moved in to her body and was screaming. She wanted to pull back, had lost control of all reason. Something pushed her on.

  Thank goodness, Matt stepped back.

  “Where’s your car?” His voice was a whisper.

  “It broke down. JC had a buddy tow it to a local garage.” Nerves simmered and stretched right to the edge. Her car, her finances, two jobs, the unbearable heat, and the lunatic had pushed her too far. No one...not even the man she might be in love with would bark orders at her as if she were subservient to him.

  His head turned slowly, revealing eyes the color of coal. “When did this happen?”

  Catherine picked up a pair of jeans and straightened them out. She made an effort to keep her voice calm. “Friday night.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?” His jaw muscle twitched, and his lips barely moved.

  “Because I worked things out for myself. That’s what I do. I take care of my own problems.” She knew that statement was a lie. She couldn’t keep the stalker out of her own home. But the point of backing down had passed.

  Matt closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. She could feel the heat coming off him. See him rein in his emotions. Without another word, he stormed out.

  Catherine stomped into the bathroom and closed the door. She couldn’t jerk her clothes off fast enough. She stepped into the shower and stood while the water ran full blast. She scrubbed because her skin felt dirty, her hair and body reeked of cigarette smoke, and then she scrubbed again. Tears of anger, fear, and frustration mingled with the warm torrent sluicing across her exhausted frame. Why had she snapped at Matt? Why hadn’t she stopped him? His fury wasn’t directed at her. Great, now she could add guilt to the mix of emotions racing through her nervous system.

  She pulled her nightshirt from the hook on the door and slipped it on before running a comb through her hair. When she opened the door, an unfamiliar noise stopped her. Damn, her nerves had calmed down. Now what? The house
was dark except for the glow from the outside lights and her bedroom. Again. That sound. Could it be a soft snore? Tiptoeing down the hall, she peered around the corner, and her heart imploded. Wadded up into a ball on the small loveseat, Matt slept twisted as a pretzel. His boots and gun lay within reach.

  She crept in and sat in the chair directly in front of him. The light array Emma had installed outside streamed through the white curtains and across his face. Strong legs ran up to narrow hips and waist. The peaks and valleys of his muscles couldn’t be masked by jeans and a T-shirt. He made her mouth water. God, he was beautiful. Catherine leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Her protector was the last thing she remembered until his strong arms lifted her from the chair. Broad shoulders supported her head and a musky, masculine scent drifted into her senses. She snuggled against Matt’s warm neck while he carried her to her bed.

  ****

  Sunday, September 3rd, 11:00 a.m.

  Matt bit back a groan as he tried stretching the kinks from his back. Catherine’s loveseat wasn’t built for someone his size. A glance at his watch said he was already behind on the day. He eased down the hall far enough to see Catherine had kicked her covers to the floor. Doing his best to be quiet, he pulled the blanket over her tempting body. Catherine opened her eyes and smiled a sexy, sleepy “come here” grin.

  “Don’t leave. I don’t want to sleep in this bed alone tonight.”

  “It’s not night, it’s eleven Sunday morning.” He stood over her, itching to jerk that blanket back off her. “You need to rest.”

  “But I’m not tired.” She flipped the covers back and patted the bed. “If you’re not in a hurry.”

  She wiggled out of her sleep-shirt and tossed it at him. Matt shed his clothes before she changed her mind. She’d forgiven his macho outburst from last night. He was right, she shouldn’t stay here, but his anger at her stalker and fear for her was no excuse for his behavior. He crawled in and pulled her to him, covering her mouth with his. He’d apologize with his tongue, his kiss, and his hands, but first he’d tell her.

  “I’m sorry I jumped on you last night.” He nibbled across her shoulders while he spoke. “My mouth overloaded my brain. You’re right, I can’t order you around.”

  “Let’s accept each other’s apology and forget what happened. Thank you for sleeping on the couch.”

  “That damn thing’s not a couch. Sleeping on it should be on your Never list.” His fingers rolled her nipple through them, and her moan sent waves of lust through him. He uncovered her breasts and feasted on her tender flesh.

  “Come here.”

  She pulled him on top of her and with one quick motion seated him right in her glorious sweet spot. Her hips rose up in an open invitation, which he took. Pushing himself deep in her warmth.

  “Oh. My. God. I could stay in here, inside where you’re warm and wet.” He slid his hands under her hips, lifted, and pushed himself deeper. There was no place on earth he belonged any more than buried in her. His soul opened with each thrust as they set a slow pace. Eyes locked on each other, they fell into a rhythm of give and take. Ebb and flow. He wanted her emerald green eyes to darken with passion, her dark auburn eyelashes to flutter with surrender, and her mouth to speak his name with release. Matt Ballard was in love.

  “Matt,” she gasped. Her eyes wide, she ground her hips into him.

  “Come for me, Cat. Let go.” She clenched and released around him, milked him until, unable to hold on any longer, he emptied himself with a roar. He reached down for one more kiss before he rolled to her side.

  “Before I leave, let’s walk down and ask Emma if she noticed anything unusual after you left yesterday. First, how about some coffee? Then you can tell me how Ash managed to be here with you last night. I’d hate to lose another partner.” Instantly he wanted that wisecrack back. He could’ve bitten his tongue off. How could he joke about the death of a partner? His mistakes with Elena flooded his mind.

  “Matt, what is it? What’s wrong?” Her face radiated concern.

  “Nothing, forget it.” Damn, he wished he could disappear. Catherine was smart, and she’d picked up on his change of mood. The sun rose to the perfect spot and cast a gold path across her face. He could lay there and look into her beautiful eyes forever. He had many things he wanted to tell her, share with her. Could it be the universe had forgiven him?

  “Please don’t shut me out.”

  “I’ll fix coffee.” He rolled away from her penetrating gaze, rose, and grabbed his jeans on the way to the kitchen. She’d looked at him through childlike eyes. Innocent and pure. He was everything but that.

  The sound of the bathroom door closing let him know she’d followed him out of bed. A few minutes later, she joined him in the kitchen. Jesus, she knocked his breath right out of his lungs. Without makeup, she’d managed to look like she hadn’t been awake most of the night. She’d pulled her red hair back with a head band and let her wild curls hang around her shoulders. She’d definitely been working out, and a pair of shorts showcased long, well-defined legs. A yellow top with narrow straps made the freckles on her chest and nose more noticeable. Damn, he wanted to kiss every one of them.

  “Your toothbrush is still in the holder.”

  She smelled of minty mouthwash and soap when she kissed his cheek. They’d only made love a few minutes ago, but he instantly hardened. Her eyes searched his face, and he pushed his lusty thoughts away. He poured a cup from the unfinished pot and carried his fix of caffeine with him. By the time he’d washed up and brushed his teeth, he’d made a decision. If he wanted her to trust him, maybe, he should try trusting her. She deserved to know the truth about her imaginary hero, John Wayne.

  Catherine had moved to the living room and was stretched out exactly where he’d slept. She looked a lot more comfortable on the love seat than he’d been. She sat up and started speaking the minute he sat across from her.

  “Ash was at the bar last night, seems he’s good at the pool table. He asked why my car wasn’t in the parking lot. I told him about my car trouble. Marty and JC had agreed to shuttle me back and forth for the rest of the weekend. JC was my ride home. Ash offered to let JC go on, it was late, and I said yes. I’m glad, Matt. Because he insisted on coming inside to check my doors and windows. He was here when I found the box. He told me to call you right away.”

  “I’m glad he was here, too.”

  “Were you jealous?”

  She crinkled her nose, and he had to laugh.

  “Me? Of Ash? You’ve gotta be kidding.” He didn’t know why he denied it. She rolled her eyes and hit him with a grin. She read him way too easy.

  “When you mentioned losing another partner, the pain in your voice and eyes broke my heart. You’ll never make me believe you were responsible.”

  All the air left his lungs. She believed her statement to be true. “I lived. She didn’t.”

  “I’m sure you know about survivor guilt. But, explain to me how it was your fault that you didn’t die?”

  “I should’ve kept my edge. Kept my focus better. I couldn’t have prevented her being recognized but might’ve avoided capture if my head had been in the game. Our personal feelings had gotten all screwed up. We’d stayed under too long. The lines between reality and make-believe blurred. Sometimes you start believing the lies you’re living.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She moved from the loveseat and sat on the floor in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees, warmth ran straight to his heart.

  “I know you don’t. We lived as husband and wife for two years. Did everything within the gang together. Went months without the opportunity to come out of the role. We had no one but each other to talk to. Somehow we—” He looked away, couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence.

  She rose to her knees and cupped his face in her hands. “You fell in love.”

  Her gentle voice pulled his gaze to hers. Compassion lit her face, a glow radiated from her alabaster skin. No
recrimination or condemnation, only understanding shined from clear green eyes. Through her, he’d found the strength to trust. Trust her with the truth.

  “No. Elena loved her husband.” He swallowed the lump jammed into the back of his throat. He closed his eyes and drew strength from the woman whose compassion filled his heart. “We had sex. We were in Mexico. Hadn’t slept for days trying to broker a deal that would put us inside the main cartel. Exhausted, nerves about to explode, we had sex. Pure and simple, blowing-off-steam sex. It was a hundred percent my fault. Afterward things were awkward between us. After we crossed the border to Texas, our relationship didn’t improve. Both of us were confused and confounded. I’ll always wonder if our personal guilt let the edge dull, let our senses weaken.”

  “You were discovered right after you came back?”

  “Yes. As lead investigator, I’d made up my mind to have her pulled out. I could’ve made up some excuse. She’d have been furious, but the infidelity ate at her. Changed her. Obviously, I never got the chance to send her home.”

  “Matt, you turned to each other to keep your humanity alive. The affection and warmth you shared with her wasn’t wrong. The touch of another caring human being probably saved both your sanity. Sex was a lifeline for you and Elena.”

  Catherine rose onto her knees, slid between his thighs, and her arms wrapped around him. Her fingers dug into his muscles and held tightly.

  “I don’t know about all that. She’s dead and I’m not. That’s what I know.” Pressed close enough he felt her heart beat against his chest. Somehow, the rhythms synchronized. Two hearts beat as one. The tingle in his hands grew stronger and stronger. This beautiful, loving woman looked at him...looked deep inside. With all his mistakes and fuckups, she’d found something redeeming. Maybe she was right. Maybe he could move on. Maybe he’d take her hand in his and make a life for them...hell, he was sure of it.

  “My offer stands. Until this stalker’s caught, I’d like you to stay at my place.” He nipped her bottom lip with his teeth. “Who knows, you might like it and want to move in. That way I can drive you around until your car’s fixed.”